Jul 2014
It's like as soon as I'm alone the walls fall down.
The insecurity returns, back to it's usual places: a nook in the cavities of my heart, a hole in the veins that should be bringing me blood. I can't hide it, it's like the pain of a memory that never really heals with time, never fixes itself. Instead thin layers of 'I'm Okay' wrap around the wound as if sticky tape trying to glue together cracks in the road earthquakes have parted. It's just another one of those nights where every hurt from every sound spoken hits me all at once and cuts like the original impact.
The insecurity returns, back to it's usual places: a nook in the cavities of my heart, a hole in the veins that should be bringing me blood. I can't hide it, it's like the pain of a memory that never really heals with time, never fixes itself. Instead thin layers of 'I'm Okay' wrap around the wound as if sticky tape trying to glue together cracks in the road earthquakes have parted. It's just another one of those nights where every hurt from every sound spoken hits me all at once and cuts like the original impact.
